On A Clear Day is about coming of age in a world torn by disaster and the brilliance of youth. Follow the adventures of KK, Moe and their friends as they travel to an International Academy to work together to find cures for a dying planet. As if that were not enough, they must also combat the efforts of the only group benefitting from the disaster, to stop them. Teens, young adults and anyone interested in environmental issues with a good story will enjoy reading this relevant novel. KK: Kiara MacKay is a pretty little girl from a small town and a large family. She is sweet, intelligent and thoughtful. Her quick wit and good humor temper her occasional melancholy. KK's natural curiosity make her immune to the phrase "I can't" With Kiara it's always "Let's go" Moe: Moses Arthur is an orphan, raised willy-nilly by a sea-side community. In spite of his lonely childhood, he still cultivated a sense of honor and chivalry. For the first time in his life he found a place where he belongs. Professor Danvers: The Professor is a father figure to the students and the Foundation for Earth's Recovery is his brainchild. He mentors and leads by example. Vidal Castrola: Prime Minister of Maya - bent on controlling the food market of the world and keeping the Foundation from achieving it's goals. He will stop at nothing to maintain his position of power.

On a Clear Day

By Susan Platt

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Susan Platt
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-6920-3

Chapter One

Along the way

They came for her on a Tuesday. She was twelve years, three months, and five days old. She was going to Germany; one of the chosen few to attend the international academy.

She was a prodigy. Her parents had been proud of her, though it was nothing they had done, directly. They were average folks, John and Maggie MacKay. Good people, struggling to survive. She remembered them fondly, along with her three sisters. It seemed likely she'd never see any of them again. She would be a long way from the rural village she had been born in. Culloden, Virginia was a tiny mountain community in North America's United States.

Her parents had done the best they could with her, but the school had to report her. The government came and tested her when she was eight years old. Her parents cried when the results came in. They knew she would be taken. A child with an I.Q. of 175 would be useful to them.

They were the new world government, The United Council of Nations. They were the best, the oldest, the wisest, the most intelligent group of people left on Earth, working together to try to help everyone through this difficult time in history. The goal was to save the world — or at least humanity and whatever else they could manage.

It was a sacrifice. She made it, her parents made it, her friends and relatives, all. Her brain was a gift to the world and not to use it would have been a crime against humanity. Still, it made her sad. She would miss her family. They had thrown her an awesome birthday party on the 10th of April. She would remember it, always, even if a little wistfully.

Kiara's teachers had gone beyond the basics with her. She was a sponge for information, and even considering the hapless condition of the planet, the human condition was still pretty much the same, though remarkably less abundant in places. They still had a plethora of information technology available. Culloden, Virginia was nothing more than a rural outpost near Richmond, but for the most part phone lines and satellites were still in place and operable. All-in-all, her education hadn't suffered terribly. Kiara wondered what sort of place the Foundation for the Earth's Revival would be.

Maggie, her Mum, had been born Margaret Isobel O'Brien, and raised Irish-Catholic in New York City. She met John Angus MacKay on her senior trip to Virginia Beach. They fell in love and were married that August. Maggie was already pregnant with her.

They settled in Culloden, and since Maggie's Da was gone and her Mum was alone in New York, her Mum moved down to Virginia to be near the happy couple, and of course, the grandchildren. The rest would have been history except that was the year everything changed forever.

Someone in the Middle East finally lost their patience with a neighbor and let loose a bomb, which started a volley of enough nuclear bombs to turn most of the desert into glass. What price, Babylon?

Other countries had been trying to force peace for years upon the ungrateful citizens of third-world countries. Faced with incomprehensible hatred that the allied policing forces could not have matched if they had wanted to, they finally left the ingrates to themselves.

It did not take long for them to declare war upon one another. Nearly every country east of the Mediterranean and Red Seas in the Middle East were involved, along with a few other contributors. It has been estimated that 100 nuclear bombs were detonated, using TNT blasting power between 15 and 20 kilotons each.

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass with echoes of Sunday school ringing in her head ... Matthew 24:6-7, and you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet.

7 For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in diverse places.

'Not yet', indeed. Humanity would just have to muddle through somehow. There wasn't much left of Israel to be restored at the moment, though she never really thought of it in terms of a physical location, more of a metaphorical nation, but that was just the way she rolled. She liked the Bible. She thought it was special, but having read other books on similar subjects like Judaism's Torah, and Islam's Qur'an, the Vedas of Hinduism, as well as a bit on Buddhism and Taoism with some Scientology thrown in for good measure, she had developed her own point of view. Regardless of how well meaning they were, or perhaps were not, all of the holy books were in the end written by man.

Poor stupid mortals, she sighed, accepting the irony that she was one herself. It would be easier to leave it all up to the gods. She gave Christianity's Holy Bible special consideration because her parents were among the faithful. In a way, she envied them their perceptivity on the matter. For them, as for her sisters Anna-Maria, Katherine Margaret, and Patricia Rose, there was no doubt.

Her parents had given her something that she could take with her anywhere, her name: Kiara Isobel O'Brien MacKay. It was different, at least; hers alone to remind her of her heritage, but they always called her KK for short. She even knew the history behind it. She was named after an Irish Saint; Saint Ciara. Ciar is a Celtic word that simply means dark or dusky. The lady must have been named for the dark clothing she wore, because nuns don't go about with their hair showing, but then maybe her skin was dusky, like the Spanish. No one really knows. She was not one of those saints who was a martyr or had preformed any miracles. She was canonized locally before Rome decided to make up all of the rules of sainthood that now apply. Her claim to fame was simply that she had established a monastery at Kilkeary, Ireland in the seventh century. She was also the abbess of a monastery at Tehelly, Ireland. She even has her own feast day: January 5th, if anyone wants to know. She was born in Tipperary, and died there of natural causes in 670 A.D.

Kiara's hair was dark; it was black, even, "like a raven's wing" Papa would say. Mama said that her Papa used to tell her that the O'Brien family, among other great persons, claimed the nun as one of their own. Well, maybe she was, and that thought made her smile. The simple fact that she could smile without her family gave her hope.

For Kiara, the "C" was changed to a "K" to incorporate the harsher "k" sound into the English translation, like Keltic. Other variations of the name are Ciar, Cior, Cyra, or Ceara, but her name is pronounced "Key- R-ah," and her parents did not want her called "Seeair-A." Like most Celtic words/names, which start with "c," it naturally carries the "k" sound instead of the "see" that you usually hear it with in English. Changing it to a "K" was maybe a little like giving in, but the Gaelic languages, though playing a large part in beautifying and enhancing the English language, has been swallowed up pretty well by it.

There are those who cling to it and do the best they can to keep it alive, but they all speak English, too. Gaels are all over the world. They are every kind of people, and the Gaelic bloodlines will go on as long as humanity does, because they know how to adapt. Unfortunately, that means accepting change, even when it means compromising your heritage by changing a "c" to a "k" to be better understood by others. It's better than becoming extinct, like the Mayans.

Janice was lost in her own...